Black & White
by HereWithoutYou
Summary: “Shh, I’ve got you,” the voice whispered, sounding so very far away due to the thick fog in my head. “I’m here, I won’t leave you alone.” A/H Slash ExJ


_**SLASH BACKSLASH ONE-SHOT CONTEST**_

**Story Name: Black & White  
Pen name: HereWithoutYou  
Pairing: Edward & Jasper  
Disclaimer: Everything Twilight belongs to SM, I simply borrowed her characters.  
To see other entries in the "SLASH BACKSLASH" contest, please visit the C2: ****http ://www(dot)Fanfiction(dot)net/c2/74941/3/0/1/**

**AN:**

**Everyone should be aware by now that this is a Slash story, rated M for mature content, violence, language and prejudice – consider yourselves warned. **

**And last but not least, this One-Shot was inspired by Simple Plan – Untitled (How could this happen to me), I strongly suggest that you listen to the song.**

* * *

My back against the wall and my knees tightly drawn against my body, head atop and arms wrapped around them, I tried to desperately block out the vivid pictures of my family. I tried to focus on happy thoughts; none would come to my mind.

Instead there were pictures of my loved ones; their pale, still bodies covered with a light green blanket. My beautiful baby sister's eyes were peacefully closed and if not for the big bloodless gash on her forehead one might think she was asleep. Her lips had taken a blue hue and with the unnatural paleness gracing her features, she almost looked like a pixie from a fairytale. I could still recall how cold she felt to my touch when I had traced the still childlike features which would forever accompany her now.

Our parents still forms however had spoken a whole different story; their wide eyes empty and lifeless. My mother's head was at a terrible angle, leaving no doubt about her broken neck and my father's face was bruised, his nose broken and his left eye swollen almost shut. Both their faces were riddled with little gashes and puncture wounds, where the glass from the front window had hit them, yet carefully cleaned of all the blood that, without a doubt, must've been there.

The pictures kept assaulting my mind and I only vaguely registered the wetness soaking into my pullover clad arms as my own tears. Black spots started to dance in front of my closed eyes, the first signs of the upcoming panic attack. My breaths, near erratic, kept coming in short intervals, another indicator how truly close to hyperventilating I was.

Two years ago, in a matter of seconds, my life had been completely changed and even if I had been there, there would've been nothing I could've done. The driver that had hit my parents' car had fainted. He had hit them straight on as they were on their way to my sister's dance performance. I had been home sick. He couldn't be faulted, yet I couldn't help but feel bitter about it.

It was how I came to be an orphan at the age of fifteen and still was locked down in this goddamn hole that called itself a group home. Even after being here for almost two years, I couldn't wait for the day when I finally turned eighteen and could leave this shithole. Trying to calm myself by counting down the days till I could leave usually helped, but not today it seemed.

My hearing ceased and my breaths came in short gasps, barely enough to fill my lungs, my vision blacking out more and more, when two arms hesitantly wrapped around me. I hadn't even heard anyone enter the room and couldn't bring myself to care; I needed to focus on calming down my wildly trembling body.

The body wrapped completely around me, rocking me slightly as the person hummed a soft lullaby, the melody sounded strange to my ears, completely unfamiliar. But it gave me something to focus on and even though my breathing still didn't regulate, my hearing started to grow more accurate again.

The deep, smooth voice had an air of calm as it shushed me between humming and slowly brought back my sense of smell. Our bodies rocked together while his clean, rainy scent completely surrounded me, putting me more and more at ease. Gradually the pictures of my dead family were replaced by pictures of cloudy, rainy days or the feel of a light breeze on the beach, all things my brain associated with his scent.

I didn't even know how long he rocked us, when I started to feel his warmth seep through my clothes, heating up my whole body and equally lessening my trembles. In that very moment his body around mine felt like the solitude I had sought out for the past years. A steady person to lean on when I was alone at night; closed in by the empty white walls in stark contrast to the black shadows in my room and completely freaked out by my panic attacks.

The irony of pronouncing a stranger as solitude wasn't lost on me; yet I couldn't bring myself to care. The only thing I was absolutely sure about was that he must be new, the other kids had learned early on to keep their distance, at least once they had found out about my nightly freak outs.

The thought that this might be a dream and I would wake up and reach the conclusion that I was alone, hit me like a slap to the face. In a matter of seconds all the progress I had made in the past few minutes was shot to hell. Sheer panic blinded my every sense at this realization and not even the rocking sensation could change a single thing about it.

"Shh, I've got you," the voice whispered, sounding so very far away due to the thick fog in my head. "I'm here, I won't leave you alone."

The words only added more fuel to the fire, words that would haunt me once I woke up. Desperately I tried to pull air into my lungs, fighting the blackness that once again threatened my sight. I felt trapped, trapped in my own personal hell, alone without anybody to care for or care about me. I wasn't delusional though, I tried to reason with myself. My imagination wasn't good enough to make up the quiet humming I heard, the warmth I felt or the scents I smelt.

"Maybe I should give you some space," the voice said far away, ringing with indecision.

Shaking my head frantically, I pulled as much air as possible into my lungs and tried to form a protest, a quiet whimper was all I managed though. Thankfully it seemed to be enough, the person's arms tightened around me once again and in the back of my mind I registered that our bodies were slowly rocking. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…

I tried to focus on the methodical rhythm and failed miserably. It seemed like every fiber of my being currently needed this person to be real in order to pull me from the depths of my mind that held me trapped. And for now he was real, whatever happened when I overcame my panic attack could be dealt with later.

This time it wasn't the pictures of my dead family that assaulted my brain. No, it was pictures of Maria, the woman in charge of the group home, the one who was supposed to protect and care for the minors living here. Little did the authorities know about what she was truly up to.

The mental images of her demanding that I touch her, how she made me undress myself before touching her and made me feel so fucking worthless in the progress, giving me the feeling of being nothing more than a little whore for her to use whenever she pleased. Or how she hadn't let me eat for three days to punish me for being a pathetic excuse of a guy when I couldn't even get it up.

The words she used to degrade me played in my mind like a fucking broken record, repeating over and over again that I was a worthless piece of shit and that I should feel lucky she let me touch her. She had effortlessly broken the last remaining pieces of me, shattered the shell of my former self and taken all the dignity I had left, without even hesitating for a second.

As if I hadn't had enough on my plate with my repeating anxiety attacks, she had so thoroughly mind fucked me that I now flinched away from even the slightest contact with everyone female, like the total dysfunctional and antisocial retard I came to be.

Instead of trying to calm myself, I fixated on the warmth that surrounded me, emanating from the person that currently held me safely in his arms; the person whose smooth humming voice soothed my ears, the one whose scent had reminded me of rain and cloudy beaches with a light breeze only minutes ago.

Concentrating on the finer details of the body folded around me, I noticed the muscled chest pressed tightly against the side of my own body, the strong arms and tensed legs that reached around me. The body sheltering me was without doubt male, hard and filled with strength, very unlike Maria's soft and subtle curves.

The thought alone relaxed me more than it should have. I could feel him breathing against me, slow and relaxed, little puffs of warm air against my neck. I couldn't even recall when I was so close to a person to actually feel their breath on my skin. The warmth pouring off him seemed to seep through my clothes and loosen my tense muscles little by little as my sense of smell came back to me, engulfing me once again in his fresh, rainy scent.

Next the humming grew louder to my ears, pushing away the sound of my rushing blood. It still sounded far away; nonetheless I was determined to overcome this, if only to hear this beautiful voice close to me. As my determination grew, the soft tunes became clearer and calmed my shaking body. Step by step, with every focus I could muster, my breathing, too, calmed down. Erratic gasps turned into fast, still short, pulls of air until I finally managed to match my breaths with the ones of my living shield. Finally my lungs pulled in enough air to clear out my head.

Letting my body stabilize for a couple more moments, I remained still. My eyes were still closed, now that even my heart seemed to slow down its frantic beating and the adrenalin left my body, I felt utterly spent, like I had just run miles on full speed.

Gathering the rest of my energy, I finally lifted my head, to see and thank the stranger, who was still wrapped around me. "Thank y-," I started quietly before my words were abruptly cut off as my eyes were greeted by the sight of the most piercing green eyes I had ever seen in my whole life.

Even in the dark room, shallowly illuminated by some streetlight outside, they seemed to sparkle. The eyes were set in an inhumanly beautiful face: a strong jaw, covered in light stubble, prominent cheek bones and a straight nose leading to full lips. Rooted to the spot on my bed and unable to vocalize the tiniest sound, I unabashedly stared at the gorgeous man in front of me, now wondering if I wasn't hallucinating after all.

* * *

As it turned out, I wasn't in fact hallucinating; the man in front of me introduced himself as Edward Masen. In the following hours he told me his story. How he was recently orphaned because his mom had died after fighting cancer for three years. His was voice was gentle, tinted with sadness, when he told me how she never gave up, but the cancer never stopped spreading until it won out in the end.

For hours he talked softly, as it seemed, about everything he could remember from the past years. How he had cared for his mother, when she was too weak to move after receiving another chemo therapy. How she couldn't eat and frequently threw up whatever she could get down. When she cried after discovering that her hair fell out for the first time and how Edward had shaved her head, and his, so she wouldn't find more strands of her lovely auburn hair falling out.

The worst part definitely was hearing about the past couple of months he described. Upon telling me about her looks when she started to look sick, he didn't even need to say that it broke his heart, it was clear to see in every part of his demeanor.

The longer he talked the raspier his voice grew. The silent tears streaming down his face never ceased and suddenly I realized that this probably was the first time he actually talked about all of this and with every memory he recalled, my heart broke a little more for him.

Our bodies had never much separated from each other, not even after my anxiety attack had faded, but he seemed to think nothing of it, it didn't seem to bother him and I'd be stupid if it bothered me after the way it had calmed me down. My hands never strayed far from his, my fingers lightly tracing over his knuckles. It felt great that there was someone who confided in me, I hadn't had the pleasure to care for a person in so long and I would've tried to comfort him even if he hadn't done the same for me before.

Further into the night his eyes were rimmed red, from the constant tears that never seemed to cease. Pulling him to me, I copied his earlier action and rocked us slowly, our bodies intertwined. He obviously needed a break from his own demons and I decided, no matter how much it scared me, that it was time to tell him about myself. He had offered his support when he didn't even know why I needed it so and freely told me about his life afterwards, he deserved that I was honest with him.

He needed to know that everyone in this place would shun him once they found out that he hung out with me. My status in this damned place was already ruined, but he still had a choice to make his remaining time here at least slightly better. With new found determination I told him everything there was to know. The moment when two police officers at our front door told me that my family had been in an accident, none of them surviving and how I had my first anxiety attack.

The way the room never stopped spinning when I was confronted with their lifeless bodies and all the bad experiences I made at the group home. Edward offered me soundless support by rubbing soothing circles on my back as I relived the past two years. Reaching the part of my story when Maria made her first appearance, I was ashamed. It pained me to admit what she did to me and quite frankly the dark look it produced on Edward's face scared me. Did he finally realize what a coward I have been for letting her do all the things she did? For never even trying to stop her or standing up to her?

Edward however seemed to sense my panic level rising because his face softened instantly. Tightening his hold around me he reassured me in hushed tones. Whispering that it wasn't my fault, that he wished he could've been here to protect me, that Maria was the one to blame for manipulating me the way she did. I wanted to believe, so badly, but something in me prevented me from following through with it. For the second time today I cursed Marie for laying her evil clutches on me when I had already been damaged enough and not for the first time I wondered if it maybe weren't for that exact reason that she sought me out.

Without doubt the other kids had their own fucked up histories, but they all seemed capable of interacting with each other on a normal level. None of them shied away from contact as much as I did, not even before Maria got her hands on me.

Edward's voice startled me enough to interrupt my inner musings as he continued to talk about the past days. Apparently his godmother and her husband were in Europe, wrapping up their business there so they could be in the states when the adoption could be finalized. He hadn't even finished his sentence when the first waves of terror crashed through my body. He'd leave. I'd be alone again, abandoned once again.

Simultaneously white, hot rage spiked in me. Not at Edward, he had every right to get out of this place. No, at myself for being stupid enough to allow even the smallest glint of hope to arise in me while I knew all along that I wasn't worth the effort. Every muscle in my body tensed with the roller coaster of emotions running through me. Furious at myself I tried to talk myself out of the third arising panic attack in one night.

"Jasper, listen to me," Edward demanded firmly. "Stop drawing conclusions, just let me finish."

What should I have to wait for? For him to actually speak aloud that he'd leave?

"Please just listen to me."

So he could shatter the small pieces I had reconnected in the past hours of our talk?

"Jasper," he coaxed again. "You have to snap out of it."

Maybe I didn't have to; maybe I could stay in this state, everything around me dulled to a point where it affected me less and less.

"Damn it," he cursed, his voice taking a hint of panic. "I won't leave you, do you hear me?"

He wouldn't leave me. Did he actually expect me to believe that he'd rather stay in this shithole than going to live with his godmother and her husband? Did he believe me a retard as well as a social cripple?

"I swear on the grave of my mother," he whispered and as childish as it was, I relaxed immediately. This one sentence canceled all the frantic thoughts running through my head. Luckily I had recognized, even in panic, what it truly meant for him so say such a thing.

* * *

True to his words Edward had never left me alone, in the same night we plotted our escape from the group home and followed through with it only a night later. Without hesitation I could say that leaving the place that tormented me beyond belief was a ray of hope after all those years of darkness.

The first two weeks, after we had raided our bank accounts from as much cash as the banks would give us, we had spent on the other side of Chicago in his family home. Being back in the place where he took care of his mother for years had been hard on him, every now and then he'd wake in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, his whole body trembling. Those were the occasional nights I had to comfort him; it was long since we'd given up on sleeping in different beds.

Only when we came home from shopping one day and found a letter from Esme, Edward's godmother, we started to consider leaving all together. She was supportive, telling Edward that she'd be always there for him, no matter what, and would move to Forks with her husband Carlisle and their daughter Alice – yet we didn't want to take the slightest chance to be put back into a group home. That night I had my first anxiety attack since leaving that terrible place and only feeling Edward wrapped around me helped me calm down.

Not the kind of people to waste much time, we organized a van from one of Edward's _friends._ Against a rather good payment, in my opinion, James had agreed to leave the registration plates on the van. He didn't ask why once he saw the money we had offered and I silently thanked the gods for small wonders and was glad I could get the fuck away from this guy. He made my skin crawl. Both Edward and I weren't considered adults, it other words, we couldn't rent a place nor could register a car to one of our names.

Equipping the van with a mini fridge that ran on batteries and a camping hotplate, both of which we conveniently found in Edward's basement, we also added a mattress to sleep on. For the second time in less than three weeks we packed up our belongings, this time adding some more stuff from Edward's house: dishes and kitchenware, pillows and blankets, as well as some of his favorite books from their library.

Once everything was loaded into the van, we sat down to plan our route. We didn't have a destination in mind, but we both agreed to go somewhere slightly warmer for the start; realizing that the nights in Chicago would still be very cold and we didn't exactly have anything but body heat to keep the chill away at night. Not even an hour later our road trip from Chicago to Forks, Washington over the course of eight months was planned and we were safely belted into the front seats of the van and on the road.

The next two days we spent driving to a small town in Iowa with Edward's iPod hooked on the radio as the only thing filling the silence. We each took our turns driving, taking small breaks every now and then to eat or just stretch our stiff limbs. The silence I didn't mind, I felt light and free, a feeling I had almost forgotten. Our money limit was tight, and only when we reached the small town we booked a room in an hour hotel to take quick showers.

The room didn't look very appetizing but we'd made it work – like everything else so far. It was the best method to stay clean without having to spend too much money. Shaving the scruff off my face, I already felt multiple times cleaner than before. Completing our task of cleaning ourselves we decided to look for a place where we could safely park the van, at least for a couple of days, before settling into the back off it for an early night.

Like usual, Edward slipped under the blankets before me, opening his arms to welcome me. An offer I'd always appreciated since I was too shy to make that move myself and his embrace often helped me to fall asleep quickly. Tonight was different though, sleep refused to come. Judging from Edward's deep sigh next to me, sleep didn't seem to treat him differently.

"Can I ask you a question?" I mumbled quietly.

"Shoot."

"Have you…uhm…," I began, clearing my throat noisily and quickly wondering if I should just forget it before I embarrassed myself to death.

"Just spit it out, Jasper," Edward encouraged. "You know you can talk about everything with me.

I knew the truth of his words, yet I felt stupid for even thinking about this, but like usual when the darkness rolled around my mind seemed to automatically creep to the darker places of my memories. Tonight, it was related to Maria and the things she forced me to do. Taking together all the courage I could muster I finally asked, "Have you ever been intimate with someone?"

The whole sentence had been rushed out in one breath and I couldn't help but notice how still Edward's body was next to mine. I truly hoped I didn't offend him, but I never had the chance to experience much of said intimacy. Sloppy kisses with giggling girls and forced touches from Maria were the furthest my experience went. And no matter how ashamed I was about the things that Maria made me do, I couldn't help the curiosity.

"I… uh…," he stuttered, seemingly equally embarrassed by my question.

"It's okay," I said quietly, feeling stupid for even bringing it up. "You don't have to tell me."

"No," he interrupted. "I haven't even really kissed someone. Those things have been farthest on my mind when my mother grew sick."

And here we were, two teenage boys at the age of seventeen, both robbed of the experiences every teenager should have made and on the run from our darkest fears. Little did we know what else this small town would bring when we fell asleep that night with the thoughts of this particular talk looming above our heads.

* * *

The next couple of days were mostly spent exploring the shops in the city, strolling though them to occupy some of our free time. And free time we had plenty. At night we often talked about what the future would hold for us and we both agreed that once we turned eighteen and could decide ourselves what to do with lives, we would finish high school and visit a college.

Edward told me that he dreamed about becoming a doctor, helping kids with cancer and in that moment my admiration for him grew even more. Despite the hard memories that occupation would inevitably bring, he was determined to make it a part of his life whereas I was utterly and completely lost with anything regarding my future. But for now I tried not to worry, there would be a time when I could figure things out; at the moment I was content to enjoy my newly won freedom.

Exactly one month after our departure from the group home, we decided to go grocery shopping, mostly buying things that wouldn't spoil if it wasn't stored in the fridge. Ever since our talk about intimacy we had taken to the habit of holding hands and until our trip to the grocery store it never even occurred to me that this didn't seem to be the typical behavior for two teenage boys, neither could I stop myself from smiling or the pleasant tingle shooting through my body whenever Edward laced his fingers through mine.

Standing in the line at the cash register, hands tightly clasped together, we waited patiently for our turn, while quietly talking about our plans for the next days. Edward wanted to move on to the next town, a bigger one this time. One that could provide us with more things to do in the long stretches of our days.

"Damn faggots," the voice behind us muttered as I felt Edward's body tense next to mine.

Turning slightly to face the person behind us, his face seemed stony as he spoke in an eerily calm voice, "Excuse me, what did you just say?"

"You heard me alright, fag," the guy, maybe one or two years older than us, responded.

Panic spiking inside of me; I tugged on Edward's hand as I spoke so quietly that only he'd hear, "Let it be, please. He's not worth it, we can't get into trouble."

Taking one look at me, he must've realized how close I was to panicking and let it drop instantly. Facing the front of the line again, we luckily only had to wait another minute before the cashier rang our stuff and we could finally leave the store.

Walking back to the van, the silence between us felt deafening, not like the comfortable silence that usually accompanied us. His grip on my hand was almost painful by now, although I didn't have the guts to tell him. I rather endured the silence than the fear of what would happen once we'd start talking. Would he withdraw, try to put more physical distance between us now in light of what people saw in us? And what exactly was it people saw in us? Was there a truth in it?

Arriving at the van, Edward dumped our groceries unceremoniously in the back and slipped in to the driver seat, wordlessly waiting for me to follow his lead and grabbing my hand again once I was seated next him. Without further ado he started the van and drove into the direction of the driveway, apparently hell bent on getting away from this place.

Watching him drive like a maniac for almost an hour, all the while having my hand in a death grip, I started to worry. Not only had my hand felt all tingly, this time probably from the disrupted blood flow, but it seriously scared me that he hadn't said a single word ever since we left the store. Sufficient to say, my anxiety level was steadily rising while my brain conjured up more and more ridiculous scenarios which might follow the silence.

"Edward," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Could you please pull over the next chance you get?"

No reaction. No Answer. No nothing. He simply kept staring ahead on the road stoically. Willing myself to stay calm, the last thing we needed right now would be that I had a full blown panic attack, I tried again, "Edward, please."

His eyes flickered to my face for the tiniest fraction, yet he still didn't say a word. Satisfied for now that he at least realized that I was talking to him, I settled to wait a few minutes before repeating my request again, if needed. For a moment I wondered if he was in shock and if he could even understand what I was saying but when a deserted resting place appeared he actually pulled over und shut off the engine once he parked.

Gently I pried open his fingers that enclosed my hand, unlocked my safety belt and got out of the car. There was a bench right next to the car and I sat down, waiting patiently for Edward to join me. I was surprised that the first thing he did when he was seated next to me was to take my hand back in his.

"I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable what the guy said back there," I told him, my eyes firmly on the ground as I broke the silence.

To add to my confusion his free hand gently lifted my chin, his emerald eyes searching my face. "Were you uncomfortable?" he asked.

"Scared that you'd beat him into a bloody mess? Yes. Uncomfortable? No," I told him honestly and why would I be? Being this close to Edward felt natural, I hadn't even thought about it.

Just like that, without further warning his lips were on mine. They were incredibly soft and warm, only pushing against mine with the slightest pressure as if he were afraid. My eyes fluttered close, intent to make the best of this experience while his hand moved to the back of my head, his fingers curling into my hair with a slight tremor. It was a short kiss, filled with a sweetness that left me wanting more when he pulled away at last.

"I-I-I…," he stuttered, his eyes open wide with shock. "…so sorry."

"Why the hell do you apologize?" I asked, my temper rising in a battle with the sadness of what his apology could mean. "Was it truly so horrible to kiss me?"

"No, damn," he struggled with words again, taking a deep breath he continued, "I got no fucking clue what I'm doing, can't you see that? Half of the time I don't even understand my own feelings anymore. I have zero experience and I don't know how to deal with all of this."

He couldn't feel the same, could he? Sitting there, his eyes pleading with me to understand, Edward Masen had once again managed to raise hope in me. He didn't make me feel like the piece of trash that everyone made me believe I was. "What are you trying to say, Edward?"

Sighing, he started to explain, "Whenever I'm around you, I feel complete. I have known you a little over a month and daily my feelings increase. At night when we lay down together and you are wrapped in my arms. It became the favorite time of my day. I've never felt so protective of anyone; I've never felt that way in fact." As if adding an afterthought, he whispered, "I think I might be falling in love with you."

His words reached my ears, and the world started spinning around me. Finally everything came together. My overwhelming need to be close to him, the way my body seemed to crave his, my wildly beating heart and the little tingles that shot through my body whenever he touched me. Not only had I been falling in love with him, too, and not even realized it, but he felt the same.

I must've been quiet too long because he spoke up again, though this time panic colored his voice. "I'm sorry, so sorry. I didn't want to scare you, I just… I just don't know what to do or how to deal with this, of course I understand if you don't return my feelings, I wasn't actually expecting you to and-"

"Stop," I interrupted.

"Really, it's okay, you don't even have to explain. We can just pretend it never happened and go back to how everything was before but please don't leave me alone," he rambled and for the first time I realized that I wasn't the only one scared of being alone. How could I be so stupid and not see it, his mother died after all. He had always seemed so confident in himself though, apart from when he spoke about his mother I never would've suspected that he had such a tragic past.

"Don't be ridiculous," I interrupted his ramblings again, this time a little louder. Seeing the heartbroken look on his face, I softened my voice, "I've been falling in love with you, too. I just never realized what was happening until roughly one hour ago."

"But…" he protested and before he could break out in another rant I cut him off with my lips on his. It was impulsive and for a second I felt him stiffen against me. Tenderly I moved my lips against his, coaxing him to respond. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him closer, my lips never stopping there movement until he responded in kind. It started as innocent as our first kiss and turned into something much more.

Opening my mouth slightly, I let my tongue run over his lips, he tasted like peppermint. And then his tongue touched mine, probing, exploring and I couldn't hold back the moan that escaped my mouth. He felt so good against me, his rainy scent engulfing me, his strong arms wrapped around me. It felt like home, it felt safe.

Breaking the kiss we were both panting hard, his eyes holding a whole new glint, I later learned to identify as lust. We stayed there, sitting on the bench for the next hours, talking about where to go from here and how things might change now, about fears and hopes for the future. When our words finally ceased it was dark already and we decided to spend the night parked right here.

Laying on our mattress in the back of the car, tightly wrapped around each other I buried my face into the crook of his neck and enjoyed how everything was still the same but felt so different now with our feelings in the open. We had decided to go slow, take our time to explore together but sleeping like this, in our boxer shorts with as much skin touching as possible, still felt right.

"We'll figure it out," I whispered into the silence. "I promise."

"I promise, too."

* * *

That first night at the group home had formed a strong bond and hadn't I experienced it myself, I wouldn't have believed it if time hadn't proved it true. Life had always been black and white. My childhood, even the beginnings of my teens were white. A loving family, close friends and good grades, what else could a kid wish for? When my family was killed and my problems started, my life turned into darkness, everything was tinged in black.

Now that Edward was a part of my life, there were a lot of grey areas. I had found a new home with him, he kept me grounded and was there for me, always caring and protecting. Our connection seemed to strengthen continually and I couldn't even imagine anymore what a life without Edward would be like. It wasn't perfect, but it was the best the both of us could do together and it made me more than content. It was our perfect imperfection.

* * *

**AN2:**

**Thanks to Jasper's Darlin' Kathy for going over this again on such a short notice and to Naelany (with your punked out comp and all ;)). I appreciate the effort you both put into this and the kind words. Oh and thanks for listening to my endless ramblings about this (This goes out to you, too, Jasper's Dark Angel), you girls rock!**

**Go check out their stuff and leave them and me some love,**

**Sanny**


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